It’s one of Bermuda’s dirtiest — and worst kept — little secrets.

Domestic abuse is an increasingly ugly reality on the Island. But it is a subject which is all too talked around rather than talked about in polite company.

Despite commendable efforts by local activists, social workers, healthcare professionals and counsellors to demystify the topic in recent years, there is still so much social stigma attached to the question of violence in the home that those not directly affected usually don’t want to discuss it.

And victims, in too many instances, don’t want to step forward because they are as frightened of the possible social consequences of doing so as they are of their abuser’s raised hand or clenched fist.

Domestic violence is violence, period. It’s entirely misleading to think of it in any other terms. It involves the types of behaviour which lands people in court on a daily basis for crimes ranging from common assault to grievous bodily harm to manslaughter.

When, say, alcohol-fuelled rage leads to a bar fight the perpetrator usually has to face all manner of serious legal repercussions for his actions. However, when a drunken assault takes place in the home there are usually no witnesses outside the immediate family; police are only called in the most extreme — sometimes deadly — circumstances.

And so our community has been effectively conditioned to tolerate, ignore or even, in some instances, rationalise actions which would be deemed criminal in other circumstances simply because they occur within a household rather than a public place.

Even when word of what goes on behind a particular home’s locked doors and drawn curtains leaks out, many Bermuda residents — by no means all of them male — fall back on the dinosaur logic which posits the women involved somehow have it coming.

Too often the men who make up a disproportionately high percentage of the Island’s domestic abusers do not fit the lazy profile we have assigned to violent offenders. They are not drug-addled youths, gangster wannabes or schizophrenic street people. They come from all strata of society. They are our friends and neighbours. They are members of our clubs and fellow congregants at our churches. They are professionals and civil servants and teachers. So, runs the flawed reasoning involved, they must have been provoked beyond all endurance by a spouse or partner who is a b***h or a hysteric or just terminally bloody minded.

The sometimes devastating impact of emotional abuse is also routinely downplayed in Bermuda. Psychological abuse can and does exist entirely separately from physical violence: while the abuser never hits or beats or pushes his or her victim, the invisible wounds inflicted can still be grievous and cause terrible lasting harm. There may well be more undiagnosed and untreated cases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and related illnesses per capita in Bermuda than in any other Western society. And the reality is that emotional and physical abuse often do go hand-in-hand, one dysfunction feeding the other

While women make up the majority of domestic abuse victims on the Island, there are other casualties as well. Children who grow up in homes where physical or emotional abuse is prevalent are at high risk of having their emotional, social, behavioural and cognitive development seriously disrupted.

For decades Bermuda’s Centre Against Abuse has been at the forefront of the Island’s pathetically limited efforts to contend with its epidemic of domestic violence, so much so it should properly be regarded as an essential service. The Centre provides, most immediately, safety and shelter for victims of violence in the household. But it is also instrumental in helping to facilitate transportation, counselling, support groups and individual case management for victims and their children.

Since the onset of Bermuda’s economic contraction, the services provided by the Centre Against Abuse have become more necessary than ever. Domestic violence has soared along with the Island’s unemployment rates as recession-induced stress and concurrent spikes in alcohol and drug misuse has led to an increase in the dangers women face at home.

At the same time increasing financial hardship makes it all the more difficult for women to leave their spouses or partners, no matter how violent a relationship has become. Experts will tell you the biggest fears among domestic violence victims often centre around their dependency — fears which grow more pronounced during periods of economic uncertainty. Fear about leaving is the fear of not being able to support themselves or their children. And fear of the unknown will end up trumping fear of even the most aggressive and incorrigible abuser now the increasingly pinched Centre Against Abuse has been forced to close its shelter.

Demand for the Centre Against Abuse’s beds and services has been growing even as contributions from the public and private sector have dwindled, a dilemma faced by all too many Bermuda charities. But in this instance, the Centre’s role is so very important to Bermuda’s social well-being that finding the funds necessary to make up its current operating shortfall should be regarded as a priority. The amount involved is, after all, a very small price to pay compared to the costs Bermuda will certainly incur if we lose the Centre altogether.